Who Would've Thought?

Chapter 3

The next few days passed without any memorable events, unless you count Neville melting his eighth cauldron in potions when he added two pinches of beetle eyes instead of one. But the Gryffindors were so used to this by now, they had forgotten all about it by that evening.

Hermione woke up in a good mood on Saturday, a few days after the incident with the closet. She quickly got dressed and went downstairs to the common room, where there was a crowd of people around the bulletin board, buzzing excitedly. She quickly spotted Harry and Ron across the room, playing chess away from the noise. She walked over to them and pulled up a chair.

"What's everyone so excited about?"

Ron looked up when he heard her voice.

"Oh, hi Hermione. Hogsmeade visit, the last day of term," Ron explained, grinning.

"Oh, good, I still need to buy Christmas presents," Hermione said happily.

"Yeah, I can't wait. I'm nearly out of dungbombs."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Oh, Ron, is that all you think about? Pranks?"

"Of course not," he said defensively. "I also need to stock up on my Chocolate Frog and Sugar Quill supply."

"Can't you guys be quiet? I'm concentrating here," Harry said irritably, staring intently at the chessboard.

Hermione raised one eyebrow at Harry, then looked over at Ron. "Ron can I talk to you for a minute?" she asked, and dragged him away without waiting to hear a response.

"Ow," Ron said, rubbing his upper arm. "You have a real problem with that, you know?" he said, referring to how she had dragged Malfoy off after being discovered in the closet.

"Never mind that," she said impatiently. "Listen, is Harry still upset about that whole locked-in-a-closet-thing with Malfoy a couple of days ago?"

Ron averted his eyes. "Well, yeah, I guess so, Hermione. He still thinks that one of you initiated it. And what with that detention and everything... he thinks that maybe you're carrying on a secret relationship or something with Malfoy."

She groaned. "Me date that ferret face? And that detention thing was a complete coincidence. Honestly, this is almost as bad as the time in fourth year when you freaked out about Viktor Krum and I."

"Hey, we resolved that situation a while ago. Let's not bring it up now," Ron said grumpily. He was still a little touchy about that subject.

"Alright, alright. But what does it take to convince Harry that the whole thing was just an accident? Talk to him, will you, Ron? Try to make him believe that me and Malfoy aren't carrying on some kind of love affair."

"Why should I talk to him?"

"Because he won't listen to me. You two are both boys, you guys talk to each other about things."

"Well he hasn't really been talking to me lately," he sighed. "Listen, Hermione, I shouldn't be telling you this... but I think Harry's acting like this because... well, because-"

"Oi! Ron!" Harry's voice interrupted him. "I've made my move!"

"I'll tell you later," he murmured to Hermione as he returned to the chess game.

Hermione sighed in frustration, her good mood all but evaporated. She didn't feel like staring at a chess board for 2 hours while Harry attempted to beat Ron, so she looked around the common room for someone else to talk to. She spotted Ginny sitting on the couch in front of the fire reading a book, so she made her way through the crowd, finally sitting down next to her. "Hi, Gin."

Ginny looked up in surprise. "Oh, hi, Hermione. I didn't see you," she grinned and set the book down. "So what's up? Harry still mad at you?"

"What? How did you know?" Hermione asked in astonishment.

Ginny laughed lightly. "It's kind of hard not to notice. Even though I haven't been watching him as closely as of late," she said, referring to her old crush on him. "Most people have noticed that all he's been doing is glaring or snapping at you for the past few days. Why's he so upset, anyway?"

Hermione leaned back against the couch. "It's kind of a complicated situation..." she started.

"Hermione," Ginny said. "I also know that you've been hiding something. Just tell me already."

"Oh, alright..." she said, and proceeded to explain why Harry suspected that Hermione was sneaking around with Malfoy. "It's absolutely ludicrous that he thinks something's up with Malfoy and I, but I can't seem to snap him out it. I don't know why he's insisting on being this stubborn," she finished sullenly.

"Hermione," Ginny leaned forward. "I think the answer to that is obvious."

She laughed hollowly. "Obvious? Not to me."

Ginny's eyes danced. "He's jealous, of course."

Hermioine gaped at her. "Jealous? Of what?"

"Of you and Malfoy. He obviously fancies you, Hermione."

"No, that's impossible, Ginny," Hermione said as she shook her head. "If he fancied me, he would've told me before now."

"Unless he's scared that you don't like him back. And if he thinks that you and Malfoy are a couple, would he really tell you he fancies you?"

Hermione's mouth worked silently for a few minutes before she finally found her voice. "You're wrong. Harry fancy me? It's impossible..." she repeated.

"Come on, Hermione. Your mind is always open to new ideas, why not this one?" she said eagerly. "You have to admit that it's a logical explanation as to why Harry's so angry with you. And if Ron, the Weasley with the 'beat-up-first, ask-questions-later' attitude, is already over the fact that you spent an entire night locked in a closet with Draco Malfoy, then you know that Harry's drawn out anger is a result of something deeper."

"Harry? Like me?" she shook her head. "I just don't think-"

"Why not?" Ginny asked impatiently.

"Well, because... because I asked him to that Halloween dance," she blurted out. "And he said he was already taking Cho Chang. He likes her, Ginny. Not me." She stood up. "I have to go."

"Hermione, wait. What if he didn't fancy you before the Halloween dance but discovered that he does, afterward!"

"No, Ginny," she said firmly. "He doesn't like me. This discussion is closed." She picked up her History of Magic book, and sat down on another couch on the other side of the room, taking out her homework.

* * *

Meanwhile, across the room, Harry and Ron were engaged in another discussion.

"Harry," Ron said. "We're mates, right?"

Harry looked confused as he moved his queen forward four spaces to take one of Ron's pawns. "Of course we are. You were my very first friend, you know that."

"And friends trust each other, right?"

Harry sighed, seeing where this is going. "Yes, Ron. They do," he said dully.

"Well, then, trust me on this." Ron moved his bishop diagonally to take Harry's queen before looking straight at him. "Pay attention now...there is absolutely nothing going on between Hermione and Malfoy. Nothing."

"Ron-"

"Just listen to me for a minute, Harry. Just think about this. Do you honestly think that Hermione, our bright, hardworking, Hermione, would ever go out with Malfoy? And would Draco Malfoy really associate with, much less date, a Muggle-born? The whole idea is rubbish, Harry," Ron said firmly.

Harry frowned, pondering this new information before nodding slowly. "In the back of my mind, I knew that, Ron. It's just... seeing them together in that storage room, with Malfoy...cuddled," he choked on that word, "up so closely against her...I dunno, it just had some kind of effect on me." He avoided Ron's eyes by looking down at the chessboard, moving his rook several spaces to the left.

"Harry, we both heard Hermione scream when she woke up. Obviously, she didn't want to sleep so closely to him. You heard how disgusted she was with him."

"I know, I know." Harry smiled sheepishly. "I guess I'd better go apologize to her."

Ron leaned back into the chair, satisfied. "That would be a good idea."

Harry got up and started towards Hermione.

"Oi, Harry!" Ron called.

Harry turned to look back at him. "What is it?"

Ron smiled indulgently before moving his knight towards Harry's king. "Checkmate."

Harry smiled wryly. "Funny. Very funny."

Ron smiled indulgently at him. "You'll never beat me at chess and you know it."

"One of these days, I will," he called over his shoulder as he made his way over to where Hermione was sitting on a couch. When he reached her side, he leaned down next to her and said quietly, "Hi Hermione."

Hermione jumped slightly, and jerked her head around. "Oh, hi, Harry. You startled me."

"Sorry. I didn't mean to. Um...Hermione..." he started hesitantly as he sat down next to her.

"What is it?" she glanced at her uncompleted History of Magic essay (Discuss The Effects The 1762 Ogre Rebellion Had On Department for Control of Magical Creatures). "I have a lot of homework to do..."

"Uh...I'll make it quick. I...I just wanted to apologize for overreacting like that...." he said, as he stared at the floor, wringing his hands nervously. "I was being stupid for thinking that there was something going on with you and that git."

She smiled warmly. "It's okay, Harry."

He looked up at her. "You forgive me? Just like that?"

"Of course."

"Wow. I'm so used to the prolonged fights Ron and I have, it feels kind of weird to be forgiven that easily."

Hermione chuckled. "Well do you want me to make you grovel and beg? Make you do my homework for a week?"

"No, no," he said in a hurry. "I think I'll pass on that. Besides...." he smiled slyly. "You would never trust me with something so important as your homework."

She smiled back. "I guess you're right about that. Now, I really need to finish this essay."

"It's Saturday morning, Hermione. You have all weekend."

"I know, but I'll feel better if I get it done early. Work before pleasure," she said as she picked up her quill and continued writing. Just then, a great shout of laughter went up from the center of the room. Her and Harry both looked curiously over at the disturbance. One of the seventh years had set off a Filibuster Firework, most likely in celebration of the Hogsmeade visit or of the last week of term starting the next day.

Harry shook his head and shouted above the din, "I swear, even though Fred and George have graduated, they're still here in spirit." He looked over at Hermione, expecting a laugh, but instead he saw her staring angrily at the commotion, her good mood suddenly gone.

"Don't they know that people are trying to work on homework?" she said disapprovingly.

Harry looked around. "Uh, Hermione, you're the only one here who is doing homework."

"I can't continue with this noise!" she yelled angrily, and covered as the seventh year set off two more fireworks. "I'm going to the library." She quickly stood up, gathered her books, parchments, and quills, and stalked out of the common room without another word.

* * *

Hermione walked quickly towards the library, muttering under her breath. "Honestly... the next time I see Fred and George, they're going to get it... corrupting all the other Gryffindors..."

She fell silent as she entered the library under Madam Pince's silent gaze, and made her way between the bookshelves to her usual table in the back of the library. Harry and Ron often teased her about "having her own personal library table," but she liked it her table. No one bothers her when she's back there.

She paused as she heard distracted mutterings coming from the direction she was heading. She frowned. "The only table in this area is mine. And practically everyone knows that I sit there. Now who...?" she didn't finish that thought as she peered around a bookcase. She gasped as she saw Draco Malfoy sitting at her table; books and parchments spread all over it.

Without thinking, Hermione marched forward until she was standing on the other side of the table, facing him. She dropped her books on top of his clutter with a loud thud and folded her arms. "What exactly do you think you're doing, Malfoy?"

For once in his life, Malfoy actually looked confused. "What?"

"You heard me! This is my table."

Malfoy's eyes narrowed. "I don't see your name on it anywhere."

"Everyone knows that I always sit here!" she said angrily.

Malfoy stood quickly, the back of his chair banging into the wall. "Well, apparently, I didn't. Now stop making such a big deal about this and go find another table. I have more important things that I could be doing right now instead of wasting my breath on you, Granger."

"Why can't you leave? I always sit here!"

"Then find a new place to sit!" Malfoy yelled.

"Students!" Madam Pince's cross voice interrupted their arguing. "I'm am astonished that two model students such as yourselves are bickering in my library. Now, I suggest you quit your arguing and quietly sit down, before I give you each detention."

Hermione and Malfoy grudgingly sat down across from each other, both subdued at the prospect of yet another night spent together.

"That's better. I will expect better behavior from each of you in the future," Madam Pince said with an angry glare at them before she walked back to her desk.

"Get your books off my stuff, Granger," he hissed as soon as she was out of sight.

Hermione silently picked up her books and shoved the crumpled parchments towards him.

"Careful!" he said frantically. "I just organized those!"

Hermione picked up a piece of parchment and looked curiously at it. "What's this?"

"Nothing, Granger," he said, trying to grab it away from her. However she held the parchment just out of his grasp, still staring at it.

"These are Transfiguration notes back from third year," she said slowly, trying to comprehend why he would still have those. Most of them were creased very badly, reminding Hermione of how Muggles would bunch up a piece of paper they were writing on in frustration before tossing it in the wastebasket.

"Give me that!" he said, finally managing to pull the parchment out of her hand.

"Why do you have Transfiguration notes from three years ago?"

"It's none of your damn business, Granger," Malfoy said, glaring icily at her.

"Are you so terrible at Transfiguration that you have to consult notes from the past few years?" she asked incredulously.

Malfoy sighed and leaned against the table, rubbing his temples. "I'm not terrible at it, Granger," he snapped at her. He lifted his head up haughtily and glowered at her. "It's just not one of my better subjects, that's all. We all have those, remember? Well, except you, of course," he said snidely.

"I pride myself on being equally adept at each of my classes," she said stiffly.

"If you say so, Granger," Malfoy said dismissively. "Now stop talking, or go find yourself someplace else to sit."

"Fine, I will," she said irately.

"Good." Malfoy said, taking no more notice of her. He opened his Transfiguration book and stared intensely at the pages, occasionally looking back at his old notes.

Hermione stood up, picked up her books, and was about to leave when curiosity got the better of her. She walked quietly around the table so that she was standing beside Malfoy, and looked down too see what he was studying. She watched as he reached into his bag and carefully pulled out a patterned teapot. He took out his wand and moved it over the teapot, with a swish and flick motion.

"Tapet turtilis!" Malfoy watched it for a moment. Nothing happened.

"I think the problem is in your wand movement."

Malfoy's head snapped around, his eyes flashing dangerously at Hermione. "Are you still here? Why can't you just leave me alone? Dammit, Granger, you're like the antithesis of Potter. Instead of the Boy Who Lived against You-Know-Who, you're going to be the Girl Who Died By the Hands Of," here, he paused to point at himself emphatically, "you-know-who, because she didn't know when to leave him the hell alone," he threatened.

"I'd like to see you try," she fumed.

"Be quiet," he interrupted. "Do you want Pince to come back and give us both detention? Again?"

"You started it," she whispered fiercely.

"Granger, if you have something to say, either say it, or get out of my sight."

She sighed, berating her conscience for not letting her just walk away. "Well, before you insulted me, Malfoy, I was saying that your problem is in the wand movement."

"What's wrong with my wand movement?" he asked defensively.

She took a seat next to him. "The motions that you're doing are more for Charm work." She examined the teapot. "Where did you get this, anyway? This looks like one of those teapots we used for our third year Transfiguration final."

He rolled his eyes. "That's because it is. McGonagall insisted that I borrow one so that I can practice transfiguring inanimate objects into live ones. She seems to think that if I get better with this, I won't have as much of a problem with turning one organism into another, like the beetle into turtle project. I personally think that I'm perfectly capable at Transfiguration, the problem is that she's a bad teacher," he finished spitefully.

"She is not," Hermione snapped. "Professor McGonagall is a wonderful teacher."

He ignored her comments and continued with his explanation. "So that's why I'm trying to turn this bloody teapot into a turtle, and why I'm cooped in the library on a Saturday. I didn't want anybody to see me working on third year stuff, but I forgot that ever diligent Hermione Granger never takes a break from school work, even the week before the holidays."

"Malfoy, do you want me to help you or not?" she asked, exasperated.

"I never asked for your help!"

"Well it's quite obvious that you need it. Or else you fail Transfiguration."

He hesitated, and Hermione took that opportunity to pull her wand out of her pocket. She held it over the teapot. "Now, the correct way to-"

"Wait a minute!" Malfoy interrupted again, pushing her wand away. "There's no way I'm going to accept help from a Mudblood!"

"Why can't you just swallow your pride for once in your life, you bloody ferret!" she exclaimed, finally losing her temper. "You're such an insufferable git! You can't even accept a bit of help when you need it, and believe me, you really need it, Malfoy. Now just keep your mouth shut while I attempt to fix your pitiful Transfiguration skills, so that you might have a prayer's of a chance of passing that class!"

Malfoy looked as stunned as he had when she slapped him back in their third year, and didn't utter a word as she brought her wand over to the teapot once again.

"Now then," she began again, resorting to her normal tone of voice. "Instead of swish and flick movement, the correct way to execute a proper transformation is to hold the wand directly above the object, and move the wand in a kind of circular movement. Then, of course, you do the flick motion at the end."

"But-"

"Just watch. Tapet turtilis," Hermione said as she moved her wand in a circle above the teapot, completing the motion with a small flick. She watched as the teapot morphed instantly into a turtle, which began to crawl along slowly across the table. She turned to Malfoy with a smug grin on her face. "See? Simple as that."

"Well if I had known that it was that simple..." he grumbled.

"Finite Incantatem." The turtle pulled his head into his shell when he felt the effects of the spell on it, and let out a squawk of fear right before it turned back into a teapot. "Now you try, Malfoy."

He raised his wand, moved it over the teapot and said, "Tapet turtilis."

Nothing.

Malfoy cursed under his breath and angrily threw his wand down on the table with a clatter.

"The circle was too big," Hermione told him calmly, unaffected by his temper. "Here, let me help." She picked up his wand from the table and placed it in his hand, then placed her right hand over his. Malfoy winced at the touch but when Hermione threw him a sideways glare, he refrained from commenting. "Right. Now, get used to these wand movements," she continued as she started to move the wand in a small circle ending with a flick.

I can't believe I actually have to touch this git in order for him to get a spell right, Hermione thought dismally. Just think about other things. Think about the Christmas holiday. Think about the Hogsmeade visit coming up. Think about what presents I'm to get Harry and Ron. Think about everything other than my hand on his.

She repeated the movements for a few minutes, until she was sure that Malfoy had picked them up. "Do you know them now?"

"Yes," Malfoy snapped. "Now get your hand off of me."

Hermione jerked her hand away, reminding herself that it was her duty as a Prefect to help students who were struggling with spells. No matter how awful they treated her in return.

"Fine," she snapped back at him. "Then do it already if you're so smart. Go on," she gestured. "Go on."

He huffed, and glared menacingly at her. He turned to the teapot and lifted his wand. "Tapet turtilis." They watched as the teapot instantly turned into a turtle, which started to crawl away once again, anxious to get away from his tormentors.

Malfoy grinned snidely at her. "There. Happy now?"

"Very. Of course, you realize, that was on a third year level. I think you have a lot of catching up to do, Malfoy," she replied nonchalantly, and Malfoy's grin faltered. He scowled as she stood up and started to collect her books and parchments.

"Where are you off to in such big hurry?"

"I'm going back up to Gryffindor Tower to finish this three-foot-long essay for Professor Binns." She straightened up stared at him significantly. "Hopefully everyone's done being boisterous by now. I came down here for some peace and quiet, and I would've been done with the essay by now if I hadn't got distracted."

He bristled. "Well I didn't ask for your help. I would've figured it out on my own, you know, but you wouldn't leave me alone until I let you show me."

"Whatever. Good day, Malfoy," she said coldly.

She walked slowly away, angry at herself for wasting the whole morning. "I could've been studying for Potions right now. Stupid conscience," she muttered furiously.

"Hey, Granger," Malfoy's voice called out.

Hermione stopped and turned her head slightly towards the right, looking back at him out of the corner of her eye. "Yes?"

Malfoy paused, looking like all he wanted to do was to throw an insult at her. Instead, to her surprise, all he said was, "Thanks." The word was almost imperceptible, under his breath. His eyes were focused on the turtle, still hauling himself slowly away. But the sentiment of gratitude was there none-the-less.

Hermione gave a small nod. "You're welcome," she replied quietly, and continued towards the exit. She flinched slightly under Madam Pince's stare (she was probably still annoyed about the argument she and Malfoy had), but smiled to herself as she left the library.

There might be hope for you, yet, Draco Malfoy.